


Indulgence

by tastewithouttalent



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Driving, Established Relationship, Fluff, Inline with canon, Kissing, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Sleepiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-06 17:22:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5425454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tastewithouttalent/pseuds/tastewithouttalent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Ukai wishes he could let Takeda sleep. If he had the stamina to get them all the way to the camp on his own, he would drive through the night and let Takeda get what rest he can." Takeda and Ukai take turns driving to the training camp and take longer to switch than they need to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Indulgence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dipuc (TomAyto10)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TomAyto10/gifts).



Ukai doesn’t want to wake Takeda up.

The bus is silent, all conversation long since given over to the rhythmic hum of breathing from several sleeping teenagers; Takeda did his best to stay awake, to offer Ukai the distraction of conversation while he drove, but it’s been nearly as hour since the straight line of Takeda’s shoulders tipped and collapsed against the passenger side door, and Ukai was too charmed by the drowsy-slow flutter of Takeda’s eyelashes behind his glasses to speak up and jar him back to wakefulness. Besides, they’ll need to switch around the halfway point, and if Takeda doesn’t get some rest he won’t be any safer on the road than Ukai would be. It only took a few minutes of silence for Takeda to ease into the boneless curve of sleep against the less-than-comfortable support of the window; Ukai waited until he could hear the other’s breathing gone slow and heavy before he turned the radio down to a low murmur of sound, removing the possibility of a sudden awakening due to the noise, and turned his attention to driving.

He keeps his focus on the road, mostly. But it’s an easy drive, and there’s no one on the road at this hour of the night, and Ukai thinks he can be forgiven for sneaking sideways glances at Takeda every few minutes. Takeda’s leaning heavily on the door, his glasses pushed up and off-center by the weight of his head against the window; his breathing catches a fog of condensation against the cool of the glass, creates a circle of white over the night with each exhale. Ukai can see the dark of Takeda’s lashes against his cheek, can see the unconscious softness of his mouth, and even when he looks back at the road it’s Takeda he’s thinking of and it’s the pattern of Takeda’s breathing he’s listening to.

Ukai wishes he could let Takeda sleep. If he had the stamina to get them all the way to the camp on his own, he would drive through the night and let Takeda get what rest he can. But after an hour of driving in silence his eyes are heavy, his thoughts are hazy, and his own unwillingness to wake the other isn’t enough to outweigh his concerns of safety. By the time he finds a place to pull over he’s more than ready to kill the engine and let his leg relax from the sustained pressure he’s been keeping on the gas pedal.

It’s very quiet in the bus with the engine off. There’s no movement anywhere in the main passenger section, the entire volleyball team apparently too deeply asleep to stir even at the sudden cessation of movement. Takeda shifts against the window, his mouth catching the outline of a frown for a moment; then he goes still again, sighing himself back into rest, and Ukai stays quiet, watching him. Takeda’s shirt is caught between his shoulder and the door, the pressure of his position dragging his collar off-center around his neck; Ukai can see the edge of his collarbone against the triangle of skin bared by the undone top button. His hair is ruffled into disarray as thoroughly as if he were asleep in bed instead of drowsing on a bus, his mouth barely open on his breathing; he looks peaceful, soft and warm and comfortable until Ukai can imagine him under the weight of blankets, can see the way he’d look asleep in the golden light of early Sunday mornings. It makes his heart ache, burns at the back of his eyes with emotion he’d like to chalk up to exhaustion and suspects he can’t, and even knowing that he has to wake Takeda he hesitates for nearly a minute in the quiet of the sleeping bus before he reaches out for the other’s shoulder.

“Sensei.” Soft, gentle, a murmur even softer than the radio was when the bus was still on. Ukai’s fingers brush Takeda’s sleeve, slide up the seam of his shirt to the fold of his collar. “Hey, sensei.”

“Mm,” Takeda hums, the faint, unconscious sound of waking, and shifts against the support of the door, his eyebrows drawing together as he comes up out of sleep.

“Sensei,” Ukai says again, a little louder this time. His fingers skip the edge of Takeda’s collar, ghost against the curve of the other’s neck, just along the dark curl of his hair. “Wake up.”

Takeda shifts at the contact, turns his head up to meet Ukai’s fingers; for a moment Ukai’s thumb is pressed to his jawline, their skin touching at all five points of his fingertips. Takeda’s lashes shift, his eyes flutter open; he looks unfocused, well over half-asleep still, but he smiles as soon as he sees Ukai, the sincerity of his expression the clearer for the drowsy haze in his eyes.

“Ukai-kun,” he says, his voice a little rough on sleep. When he moves it’s to lean into Ukai’s touch, to press against the other’s hand as he shuts his eyes to the force of a yawn. “Is it time to switch?”

“Yeah,” Ukai says, but he doesn’t pull away. Takeda blinks again, visibly pulling himself to consciousness, and Ukai lets his touch slide higher, catches his fingertips on the soft dark of Takeda’s hair curling at the back of his neck. “Sorry to wake you, I can’t keep my eyes open.”

“Oh no,” Takeda says, shaking his head even as he’s caught by another yawn. “I’m glad you did, I’d hate to leave you to do all the work.”

“Mm,” Ukai hums, and he should pull away so they can get out and switch seats but he can’t pull his fingers away from Takeda’s hair, can’t manage to dislodge the point of connection radiating warmth all up his arm, and Takeda’s not moving back either. He’s leaning into Ukai’s touch, his eyelashes fluttering heavy at the friction instead of with sleep, and Ukai’s going hot all across his skin, his heart beating faster at the way Takeda’s lips are parted on the pace of his breathing.

“Should we switch?” Takeda asks without opening his eyes, the words whisper-soft in the front space of the bus. The volume makes them purr into suggestion, his soft tone sounding like an invitation against the backdrop of the dark of the night and the silence of the space.

“In a minute,” Ukai says, just as softly if with more of a rumbling purr on the words. He reaches to unfasten his seatbelt, to free himself from the uncomfortable press of the strap across his chest; with it off it’s easy to lean over the gap between the seats, to reach out and fit his other hand up against the shoulder of Takeda’s shirt to slide against the back of his neck.

“Is this okay?” Takeda asks, tilting his chin up into an angle of expectation that says Ukai’s answer doesn’t make much of a difference.

“Yeah,” Ukai says, breathing the words into shape at Takeda’s mouth. “Everyone’s asleep, we got a couple of minutes.”

“Okay,” Takeda says, capitulation soft and warm, and Ukai leans in to close the distance and catch the give of Takeda’s mouth with his own. Takeda sighs against his lips, opening his mouth into instant surrender, and Ukai leans closer, curling his fingers up into Takeda’s hair while he licks against the sleep-heat of the other’s mouth. Takeda’s hand comes out to catch his shoulder, steadying rather than pushing him away, and Ukai hums at Takeda’s lips, purring satisfaction into the friction as Takeda’s fingers slide up to wind into his hair. The angle is awkward, a stretch for Ukai over the space between them, but when he pushes Takeda runs up against the far side of the door and the resistance is satisfying enough that Ukai doesn’t retreat to a more comfortable angle. Takeda’s arm is around his shoulders, now, pulling him closer with every shift of his weight, and he’s humming into Ukai’s mouth, offering breathless whimpers of appreciation whenever Ukai catches his lip gently between his teeth or growls against his mouth.

They stay there for a while. Ukai’s not sure how long it is; everything goes hazy when he’s kissing Takeda, the effect only compounded by the sleep-deprived weight over his thoughts. It’s not until he pulls back to catch a breath that he even remembers where they are, not until Takeda manages a shaky “Ukai-kun” that he can piece himself back into coherency.

“Yeah,” he says, answer to a question Takeda didn’t ask. “We should switch.”

“You should rest,” Takeda says, but he’s not letting his hold on Ukai’s shoulders go, and Ukai’s still got his hand pressed into the other’s hair. “You’re tired, you should sleep if you can.”

“Right,” Ukai says. His focus drags down, away from the night-dark of Takeda’s eyes behind his off-center glasses and down to his parted lips, to the damp of his own mouth catching a shine off them. “Someone might wake up.”

“Yes,” Takeda agrees, but he’s looking at Ukai’s mouth too, and his fingers are wandering back up into the other’s hair with no sign of pulling away. “We should.”

“Switch,” Ukai finishes, and leans in again to kiss Takeda back against the glass of the window. Takeda goes without protest, his shoulders fitting against the frame of the car, and Ukai catches the breathless whine he makes on his tongue to maintain the silence in the space.

The indulgence is worth the delay.


End file.
